i hate that i can't say your name

Shaamah

POSTED: Mon Jan 28, 2019 2:17 am

Her life had become a series of predictable rituals. As an indentured slave there were not so many variables to the day to day – members came to visit The Queen on some evenings and Odalis was herded into the tiny room and told not to come out until it was done. She tended the hearth and prepared food, collected kindling and folded her mistresses’ clothes. When she worked, she daydreamed about her freedom – about the life she could have outside of the stony walls that kept her housed within The Ruins.

It was strange to even consider freedom – for besides the collar that was permanently locked about her neck she was given the space to wander as freely as she liked, so long as she was back before the sun began to set.

She wrapped herself in one of her flea-bitten sweaters, the dull brown hanging in loose folds over her thin frame. Odalis wandered as she usually did, meandering along the paths that ran through the ruins and running her hands along the stony outcrops that marked some of the homes. She had met some of the other slaves; the broody silent Silas, and Andrew Winthrop – the tall coyote man who was owned by a member named Helena.

All of them were tied to a master and that master was tied to The Queen. Elphaba commanded a presence that Odalis felt confused about – for she was cruel at times but valiantly soft at others.

She clutched her elbows as she walked, ducking her head as a breeze tore along the row of which she walked. Eventually she came to Margerrd, a place where the pack animals were housed – and she watched them pick at the snow with their feathered feet, their ears twitching toward her as she came to lean against the fence. The darkest animals stood out like smudges against the snow, and some had pale manes that were regal and unusual.

One was thick necked and regal looking – his body painted in black spots that had him disappearing against the frost.

Odalis wandered into the stable and patted the first nose that came to hang its head – and she delighted in the long breath that the horse blew against her face.

<”Hello,”> It felt strange to speak in her mother-tongue after so long, <”You remind me of Bardi.”>

She tried not to think of him too often, for she was not sure who had taken over his care in the wake of her disappearance. A part of her hoped that he had been gifted to the young girl, Issola, but there was no way of knowing. Bruma too – she would have been left to The Courtiers to deal with.

Somehow being here amongst the horse smells and the hay made Odalis feel safe, and with a quiet sound she sat upon a bale of hay to watch the animals curiously.

Salsola
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Amanda
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straight through the smoke

POSTED: Tue Feb 12, 2019 12:47 pm

Today was a day of chores beyond his stature, reaching into the titles beyond that of the shield faction and into the work of the stables. Of course, Zetsubou was taken along for the task. The boy needed some heavy work to keep him in shape, despite the helpless state that Shaamah kept him in. He was broken in spirit, and who would have thought that it was his own unborn and the Hushhowl female's implied death that had done it. Too much empathy before transformed into an apathetic, yet obedient state of mind, and it worked well to Shaamah's advantage.

Two strong men made way into the stable's dry storage where the grains, feed and hays were put up. Zetsubou, on his way through, couldn't help but catch the sight of the woman that sat by the pasture fence. Tilting his head with furrowed brows, for a moment, he could swear that-

Shaamah pushed the back of his head forward and Zetsu stumbled forward, forgetting completely of the woman by the fence and moving into the stable doors,” Work,” His master demanded of him, crossing his arms over his chest and holding his ground until the boy disappeared from sight.

What Zetsubou had been thinking was right, and there was no need for the boy to go snooping around in Sapient's past. Especially, if that past had lead to another of Sapient's own to become an indentured servant. Especially, if that servant served Elphaba. It was a game that boy didn't need to be playing, because it would put tension between he and his Queen. He was sure of it.

Shaamah, on the other hand, wasn't a fool like his son, nay, servant.

Heavy dark foot paws carried the beast of a man over to the fence, with enough distance that should Zetsu eavesdrop, there wouldn't be much that he could pick out of a quiet conversation. Finding the woman's side, arms still crossed, he stood silently beside the bale where she sat. The horses, as always, weren't exactly thrilled with his presence and a few stamped, others moved away.

“What found you here, Servant?” Throaty tune traveled in a low hum, but his silent inquiry remained at bay. What did she remember of him, if anything? Perhaps, beyond the bar and into a deeper past that she might be willing, or capable, of remembering, there could be memory there. Of course, if it hadn't come at the bar, it wouldn't come at all now, he was sure. Was she still in contact with her mother? What would Akantha think of this problem the woman had gotten herself into? A part of him, his Sapient past, found himself protective of her, but his future didn't have any room for weaknesses as these.


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